Eleven Years Ago

Eleven years ago, at the Empty Mountain Sect.

The sky was azure, a gentle breeze stirred, and two or three white cranes flitted through the clouds above the peaks. Everything was peaceful and serene.

And on this exceptionally tranquil day, of the Empty Mountain Sect's Three Mountains Four Peaks—the seven mountain ranges in all—six were completely deserted.

On each of the six ranges, only a handful of disciples remained behind to keep watch. Even the Supreme Four Courts had no Supreme Elders stationed there.

Only Qingchan Peak was bustling with people.

Especially in front of Caiyun Tower.

Several cultivators in Qingchan Peak's Daoist robes stood to one side, whispering among themselves. They kept their voices low, and their expressions were grave.

These Qingchan Peak cultivators, huddled together in hushed conversation, were no spring chickens. They looked to be in their forties or fifties; even the youngest appeared to be around thirty-five or thirty-six. Two of them had already gone gray.

Their attire and the tokens at their waists made their identities easy to recognize: they were all elders of Qingchan Peak.

"It should be today, right?"

"It should be. Otherwise, why would He Zhenwu summon the elders and disciples from the other peaks to Qingchan Peak?"

"Sigh. We knew this day would come sooner or later, but..."

Though they had long since prepared themselves for what was coming, now that the moment was truly at hand, these Empty Mountain Sect elders still felt weighed down and anxious.

Suddenly, the Qingchan Peak elders all raised their heads and looked south.

A young woman in white, her dark hair flowing like a waterfall, was striding toward Caiyun Tower.

The elders immediately adjusted their steps. As she neared, they lined up and bowed respectfully to her in unison.

"Zhang Junjie, elder of the